


Anchor

by dyingbreed



Category: Supernatural
Genre: F/M, Work In Progress
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-01-12
Updated: 2014-02-04
Packaged: 2018-01-08 12:58:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,398
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1132931
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dyingbreed/pseuds/dyingbreed
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This is a chaptered fic based on the early seasons of Supernatural. The story starts sometime at the beginning of Season 2. Sam has been having visions of an unidentifiable girl who is being tortured by the same demon that has haunted the Winchesters for decades. As the brothers strive to protect the girl, romance ensues...but who will she pick?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Sam Winchester woke up hyperventilating in a cold sweat for the third time that night, clutching his head as it throbbed with the pain of a recurring nightmare. The same dream had haunted him for a month, depicting an unnamed yet tellingly pretty girl being cornered by the same demon that had haunted his family for nearly three decades. Sam had had premonitions like this before, yet they usually revealed a location where the deed would be taking place. He thought he should maybe be thankful that that detail had so far been concealed, because then he didn’t feel bound to resolve the situation as he usually did, but something about the girl had become too familiar for him and he found himself thinking of her in the most random moments. He wanted these visions to go away, but he wanted to save her even more.

 

Sam got out of bed and walked across the motel room to the bathroom. Looking at his reflection in the mirror, he was surprised that Dean hadn’t mentioned the dark circles cradling his eyes or the fact that he had shed nearly ten pounds from not eating. But since Dad died, Dean hadn’t mentioned much. Of course he still looked out for his little brother, but while Sam felt a stronger need to hunt and finally come to terms with this demon, Dean had become more introspective. He was still determined to get to the bottom of the situation, but he began to wonder how long it would take. He had spent almost his whole life hunting, and it wasn’t an easy job. Apart from dealing with the actual demons, you had to deal with your inner demons, and those inner demons had finally started to grow in him. Unfortunately, he wasn’t a talk-it-out kind of person and he was starting to spend a lot of time in his head as a result.

 

Sam splashed his face with cold water, wet his hair, and sat back on the edge of the bed. _If only I knew where_ , he thought, images of the unnamed girl plaguing his brain once again. He had memorized her physical features by this point – her dark green eyes, round face, and small but strong body. He knew her voice was soft yet present, the kind of voice that you remember for years. Simply thinking about her brought back the visions of the demon again, this time more piercing as images of torture flashed through his head. The images raced faster and became more blurred until he only saw pieces of each scene. The pain grew more intense, and the next thing he saw was black.

 

* * *

 

“Sam? Sam! Come on bro, wake up!”

 

All Sam could feel was the dull ache in his head. He wanted to open his eyes, but he feared the light would make the pain worse. “Shut off the light, Dean,” he groaned.

 

A click and Dean complied. Sam’s eyes slowly peeled open as the silhouette of his brother wavered above him. He felt Dean’s calloused hand on his forehead and distantly heard him ask what had happened.

 

Sam pushed himself up off the rough carpet and focused on Dean’s face in front of him. “I-I’ve been having visions again, Dean. And they’re bad,” he said with a few blinks.

 

“Yeah, I figured that part out,” Dean said with a smirk. “So where we headed next?” Dean had grown used to relying on Sam’s unusual gift to find them work when there were no strange headlines.

 

“That’s the thing, Dean, I don’t know. All I see is the same girl over and over again, and she’s being tortured by the demon, but there are no clues as to where she is.”

 

Dean shrugged. “Maybe that’s a good thing, I mean, that could be keeping us from trouble, right?”

 

“No, Dean,” Sam shook his head. “This girl obviously needs our help and she could lead us one step closer to finding what killed Mom and Jess, but my mind won’t let me see it! I’ve never had this happen before, Dean. And I’m worried that time is running out.” Sam looked into his brother’s eyes. Lately Dean had been less skeptical of his visions and he hoped that he remained the same this time around.

 

Dean could feel his brother’s pain, something he had been in tune with since they were very young. “OK, bud,” he said as he grabbed Sam’s hand and pulled him up off the floor. “It may be a waiting game, but you let me know when we gotta go rescue your princess, alright?” He clapped Sam on the back and crawled back into bed.

 

_God, Dean,_ Sam thought. _She’s not my princess. I’m not ready for that yet._


	2. Chapter 2

“You gotta eat something sometime,” Dean said, gesturing to the club sandwich that sat anemically on the plate in front of Sam. “The bony look isn’t good for you. I mean, you’ve never had the physique I have, but you’re starting to look like a skeleton.”

 

Sam reluctantly picked up the floppy sandwich and peeled off the crusts, leaving them for Dean. Three bites and the sandwich was gone. He _was_ hungry, but it was the feeling he got after eating that was horrible. There was a heaviness that had been sitting in the pit of his stomach for too long.

 

“Atta boy,” Dean smiled, shoving the crusts into his mouth. He flagged the waitress over, ordered a slice of pie, and looked across at his brother. If he was completely honest, he was worried about him. Sam had just started to accept Dad and Jess’ deaths, and his visions were a normal part of life for him by this point, but Dean had rarely seen him this choked over something.

 

Dean stretched against the back of the booth with a yawn, then leaned forward, looking Sam directly in the eye. “I know you’re really torn up over these visions lately, but I think we gotta wait ‘em out. You wouldn’t be having them if there wasn’t a good reason for it. Soon enough you’ll know where we gotta go. Until then, we keep hunting other things.”

 

Sam looked at Dean quizzically. “What if it’s too late when I finally find out this girl’s location? I don’t need to be plagued with guilt over another person’s death, Dean. Especially when I was the one who let the demon get away that night. That’s why Dad is gone, and Jess, and Mom. And who knows how many more people are in danger. Everything I have loved in life thus far has been taken away from me. I just need something to hold onto, and apart from you, these visions are all I have.” Tears started to well in Sam’s eyes.

 

Dean looked around the restaurant nervously. He usually didn’t mind that Sam was sensitive, but not in public. He gave his brother a look and Sam immediately sniffed loudly and blinked a few times to clear his eyes.

 

“I’m just frustrated, Dean. I try not to think about it but I can’t control these visions and they pop up at the worst times. I can’t eat, I can’t sleep…and I don’t think I’ll feel normal until we get this sorted out.”

 

Sam looked dejectedly at his brother. Sure, Dean wasn’t 100% since the recent events, but he was holding it together a lot better than Sam. He was glad that Sam had the gift of premonition, but seeing how the visions had affected him lately definitely didn’t make him envious. He wanted to help this girl just as much as Sam did, especially since the demon they were hunting was such a bitch, but he didn’t know what to do to make him better. Actually, he had never felt like he knew exactly how to fix Sam. Dean was tough, and that was that. He didn’t even think he had the ability to be sensitive; his job had hardened him too much. But seeing his brother so helpless made him feel helpless, too. Sam was all he had now, and if Sam wasn’t OK, neither was he.

 

The waitress set the pie down in front of Dean and Sam stared at it miserably.

 

“Hey, sweetness,” Dean called to the waitress. “We better have two forks,” he said, pushing the plate closer to Sam.

**Author's Note:**

> Comments are appreciated if they're polite. This is my first time publishing on a platform like this, so please be gentle!


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